Page 19 of Mistletoe Bargain with the Billionaire

I’d thought she was asleep as I’d started my third night of tossing and turning, tormented by naughty notions about Carol. And this time, there’s a Himalayan, who must run at a hundred and ten degrees Fahrenheit, wrapped around my feet.

“It’s okay. I can’t sleep either.” She expels a long breath.

“It’s weird to be this tired and not able to sleep. I feel like I’ve been running a marathon even if I’ve mostly been sitting on my ass.”

“I know, right? This is much more tiresome than I remembered from my cross-country trek years ago. And, I took the bus then.”

“Well, the distance is the same so it must be that there’s more miles on us now,” I say, jokingly.

She laughs quietly before sighing. “I’m sorry. I could’ve just taken a plane like a normal person for you, Nick.”

“I’m not sorry.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious, Carol. I’m not.”

And, I mean it. As long and exhausting as the trek is, I don’t regret it. I’m enjoying it. Okay, not constantly but I am enjoying it. I’m going to miss being with Carol and Mr. Jinglebell when this is all over.

Actually, I don’t like thinking about that. Pointless to think of it anyway.You’ve still got a week together in Maine. You may be ready to run back to San Francisco screaming by that point.

Somehow, I know deep down that’s not going to be the case.

Carol rolls to her side to face me. “You mean to tell me, Mr. Billionaire with his own jet, that you’re content driving with me and my cat, who puked on you yesterday, when you could’ve been home days ago?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying, Ms. Wilder. I would’ve missed dancing in a diner in Colorado and finding cornfield snow globes in Iowa if I’d flown.”

She laughs and her hand bats at me in the dark. It’s just a playful swipe but she makes contact. My pained grunt makes Carol gasp. Or maybe making contact with my hard-on caused the gasp. “Nick?”

“It’s nothing.”

Silence, awkward, embarrassing and deafening in an odd way, fills the space between us. I exhale and do my best to will my erection away. Mr. Jinglebell yowls angrily when I shift my feet. I feel the warmth of Carol’s hand resting on the sheets inches from my body.

“Was that your knee?” she whispers after the silence has gone on so long I’m convinced she’s going to ignore it.

I could lie and say it was, save us both some embarrassment. I don’t lie. I don’t commit to an answer either. “Hmm.”

“It wasn’t your knee, was it?” she murmurs next as her hand creeps a little closer. I cover it with mine.

“Carol.” It’s a warning.

“I could help.”

I’d love for her to. “Not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

Because then I’ll want to continue getting your help.“This will go away. Just ignore it and get some sleep.”

Ten beats of silence. “What if I don’t want to ignore it?” Her hand grazes my chest, burning me wherever it touches. It slides lower, down my abs. “You’re very fit, Nick.”

There’s no way my cock is going soft like this. “And you set the boundaries. No touching in bed.”

“Well, I wrote those rules in pencil…” Her hand has slid a little lower and, goddammit, my hips jerk forward of their own accord, seeking nirvana. “I bet we’d both sleep better afterwards.”

“After what exactly?” I ask her, my voice growing rougher.

“We could…” Even in the dark, I know she’s blushing when she says, “Get each other off. I always sleep better after I come. Don’t you?”

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